of shocked faces around the lunch table looked at Sandy. Opal asked the question they all wanted the answer to: "How come you're so dead set against your uncles seeing your parents?"
"Don't call them my uncles," Sandy said. "I don't want to be related to them in any way. They're attempted murderers."
A gasp went around the table, but not from Opal. She picked up the broken cigarette, rubbed her dust-mopped foot on the spot it left on the floor, and said, "Yeah? Who'd they attempt?"
"Mousey and Horatio and Flossie. I'm afraid I attempted Attila," Sandy said sadly, "but I didn't know the cake was poisoned when I gave it to her."
"Huh?" Opal said, and so did everyone else at the table.
So Sandy sat down and told them the whole story.
When he'd finished, Opal put another unlit cigarette in her mouth and said, "We're going to have some more trouble with them. We'd better be prepared. Hey, Dr. Waldemar, wake up. We've got a problem here."
Dr. Waldemar's chin rested on his chest and his breathing was heavy and regular.
"Shoot," Opal said. "The guy's really slipping. Sometimes I think I ought to park him in an armchair in the library and run the place myself. Which I'm practically doing anyhow." She deposited her cigarette in a cup of rice pudding. "Well, OK. I believe you, kid. We've got to protect our sleepers. Too bad the fancy security system we used to have broke and we never fixed it. Any other suggestions?"
Lyle and Virgil put their arms around each other and shivered. Graham took another rice pudding from the tray and started in on it, first making sure that Sunnie wasn't paying attention. Eddy, of course, didn't do anything, and Boom-Boom sucked furiously on his thumb. Mr. Moreland and Mr. Van Dyke looked at each other, frowning impressively in silent competition, to see who could come up with a suggestion.
"We could hide them," Mr. Moreland said.
L. Barlow Van Dyke made a strangling sound and shook his head.
"Where?" Opal asked. "And what about all their gear?"
"You've got a lot of buildings here, cottages and stables and stuff. Put them in one of those."
L. Barlow Van Dyke's face was turning purple as he shook his head over and over.
"Don't you think a court order would allow Bart and Bernie to search the outbuildings?" Sunnie asked.
L. Barlow Van Dyke paled by a couple of shades and nodded smugly.
"Oh, onion juice!" Mr. Moreland said. "I forgot about that."
"We could say they had something contagious," Sandy suggested. "Then Bart and Bernie couldn't go near them."
Sunnie threw her arms around him. "That's a wonderful idea. Bentley's so clever with his chemistry things. He could cook up something, I'm sure, to make them look sick. Or we could paint spots on them or something. That would keep Bart and Bernie away from them. But it's more important than ever that we get them to wake up. I have an idea of my own," she said, letting go of Sandy. "I think we should all spend more time up there with them. We have to bring them back into life, not keep them isolated. There's a fireplace in their room—I think we should have our after-dinner reading upstairs instead of in the library. Aren't you all tired of sitting around the library, anyway?"
"Is there a TV?" Lyle asked, still clinging to Virgil.
"No," Sunnie said. "Just real people. We'll start tonight, after we've had an afternoon out in the snow. You know, your unconscious works on a problem even when you're doing something else, so while we build our snow people we must all think about keeping our sleepers safe, and who knows what we'll come up with. Now let's go outside."
Every head except Sandy's and Boom-Boom's was shaking from side to side, reluctance as thick in the air as Opal's cigarette smoke used to be. Graham took two more rice puddings from the tray.
"No objections," Sunnie said sternly, returning Graham's puddings to the tray before he could take even one bite. "We're all going outside if I have to dress you up myself. You've got twenty
"Don't call them my uncles," Sandy said. "I don't want to be related to them in any way. They're attempted murderers."
A gasp went around the table, but not from Opal. She picked up the broken cigarette, rubbed her dust-mopped foot on the spot it left on the floor, and said, "Yeah? Who'd they attempt?"
"Mousey and Horatio and Flossie. I'm afraid I attempted Attila," Sandy said sadly, "but I didn't know the cake was poisoned when I gave it to her."
"Huh?" Opal said, and so did everyone else at the table.
So Sandy sat down and told them the whole story.
When he'd finished, Opal put another unlit cigarette in her mouth and said, "We're going to have some more trouble with them. We'd better be prepared. Hey, Dr. Waldemar, wake up. We've got a problem here."
Dr. Waldemar's chin rested on his chest and his breathing was heavy and regular.
"Shoot," Opal said. "The guy's really slipping. Sometimes I think I ought to park him in an armchair in the library and run the place myself. Which I'm practically doing anyhow." She deposited her cigarette in a cup of rice pudding. "Well, OK. I believe you, kid. We've got to protect our sleepers. Too bad the fancy security system we used to have broke and we never fixed it. Any other suggestions?"
Lyle and Virgil put their arms around each other and shivered. Graham took another rice pudding from the tray and started in on it, first making sure that Sunnie wasn't paying attention. Eddy, of course, didn't do anything, and Boom-Boom sucked furiously on his thumb. Mr. Moreland and Mr. Van Dyke looked at each other, frowning impressively in silent competition, to see who could come up with a suggestion.
"We could hide them," Mr. Moreland said.
L. Barlow Van Dyke made a strangling sound and shook his head.
"Where?" Opal asked. "And what about all their gear?"
"You've got a lot of buildings here, cottages and stables and stuff. Put them in one of those."
L. Barlow Van Dyke's face was turning purple as he shook his head over and over.
"Don't you think a court order would allow Bart and Bernie to search the outbuildings?" Sunnie asked.
L. Barlow Van Dyke paled by a couple of shades and nodded smugly.
"Oh, onion juice!" Mr. Moreland said. "I forgot about that."
"We could say they had something contagious," Sandy suggested. "Then Bart and Bernie couldn't go near them."
Sunnie threw her arms around him. "That's a wonderful idea. Bentley's so clever with his chemistry things. He could cook up something, I'm sure, to make them look sick. Or we could paint spots on them or something. That would keep Bart and Bernie away from them. But it's more important than ever that we get them to wake up. I have an idea of my own," she said, letting go of Sandy. "I think we should all spend more time up there with them. We have to bring them back into life, not keep them isolated. There's a fireplace in their room—I think we should have our after-dinner reading upstairs instead of in the library. Aren't you all tired of sitting around the library, anyway?"
"Is there a TV?" Lyle asked, still clinging to Virgil.
"No," Sunnie said. "Just real people. We'll start tonight, after we've had an afternoon out in the snow. You know, your unconscious works on a problem even when you're doing something else, so while we build our snow people we must all think about keeping our sleepers safe, and who knows what we'll come up with. Now let's go outside."
Every head except Sandy's and Boom-Boom's was shaking from side to side, reluctance as thick in the air as Opal's cigarette smoke used to be. Graham took two more rice puddings from the tray.
"No objections," Sunnie said sternly, returning Graham's puddings to the tray before he could take even one bite. "We're all going outside if I have to dress you up myself. You've got twenty
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